


Here for the Party

by randi2204



Category: Voltron: Defender of the Universe, Voltron: Lion Voltron
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-22
Updated: 2010-03-22
Packaged: 2017-10-08 06:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randi2204/pseuds/randi2204
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a fight with Keith, Lance takes off.  Hunk is the one who finds him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here for the Party

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: WEP owns Voltron. This was inspired by the song "Here for the Party" sung by Gretchen Wilson.

Hunk sighed as he looked down the brightly lit street, and wondered for a moment if this one stretch of road housed every pub, every dance hall, every club on Arus.  It looked like it was about five miles long from this end, though logically he knew it could not be nearly that great a distance.  Garish signs, the glow of bright neon everywhere proclaiming music and alcohol and other diversions, everything and everyone disguised, whether by their own design or by the way the lights cast over them.  A surprising number of people crowded the streets in the crisp night air, moving from hot spot to hot spot, talking, laughing, and in some cases, just grimly determined to have fun.

 

_How the hell does he expect me to find Lance in all this?_ he thought sourly as he entered the fourth bar on his side of the street.

 

Lance had disappeared from the castle a little over an hour ago.  Or rather, Keith had discovered that he was missing then, and with a false coolness that just barely disguised his upset, had decided to go after him.  And of course, if Lance had gone to the clubs, as the clothing strewn over his bed seemed to suggest, Pidge would never be allowed in, and it certainly wasn’t the kind of place the Princess should be exposed to.  So it was just Hunk and Keith searching for their wayward right arm.

 

Keith said that he just wanted to know where Lance was, in case of an attack.  It’d be easier to pick him up, if necessary, if they knew where he was.  He’d actually repeated that a couple of times, and rather defensively, before he realized that Hunk wasn’t arguing with him and he had fallen silent

 

If that was the reason Keith wanted to give, to justify what he was doing, that was fine, and Hunk could accept that.  But the pain in his captain’s eyes told another story.

 

Hunk knew without question that Keith was holding himself together only by the thinnest of threads.  The whole castle had heard the argument.  Of course, Lance could never do anything quietly, and he could goad Keith like no one else.  It had been long and loud—longer and louder than most—and ended, as many of their arguments did, with Lance storming down the corridor and slamming into his own room.

 

Pidge sometimes asked why the two of them were together when it seemed that all they did was fight, but Hunk merely smiled in reply.  It was easy to see the devotion in Keith’s gaze when he looked at Lance, and the wonder in Lance’s… if you knew what to look for.

 

But right then, Hunk wished he’d paid more attention to Lance’s wardrobe, because then he wouldn’t have to peer into every face inside each dimly lit, smoke filled pub.

 

Most of the places along this street were fairly small, as clubs went, sometimes with many more than the recommended number of bodies pressing their way in.  Just to make his job more difficult, he was sure.  Then he shook his head.  _No, I’m sure this is much harder on Keith than on me_, he thought, slightly ashamed.

 

His sigh was even heavier when he approached the sixth club.  It looked a little bigger than the others.  There was no line, but there was a guy almost as big as he was standing at the door.  He fingered the little bit of cash still left in his pocket, then shrugged.  There was nothing for it; he’d have to pay the cover and go in.

 

The bouncer just grinned toothily at him as he handed over the last few dollars he had.  Then, making a great show, he opened the door and motioned Hunk inside with a flourish.

 

Hunk just rolled his eyes, and stepped into the wall of noise.  The music blared out at him so strongly that he felt he was walking against a heavy wind.

 

He was surprised when he saw the huge crowd inside, and his heart sank.  Looking for Lance here would take the rest of the night.  _Well,_ one part of him thought, _that wouldn’t be too bad, seeing as I haven’t got any more money anyway…_

 

His great size made moving through the throng unnoticed difficult to nigh impossible.  No matter which way he turned, there was a pair of appraising, inviting eyes, a mouth asking him to dance, a hand reaching out to touch…

 

As politely as he could over the bellow of the music, he turned them all down.  “Sorry… Thanks, but I’m not interested… Just looking for someone… Excuse me…”

 

Relief swept over him when he was able to reach a good vantage point near the bar.  With his back to the wall, he turned to scan the twisting, writhing crowd.  The beat invaded his blood, and he couldn’t stop himself from tapping it out against his thigh as he looked around.

 

At first, he almost missed him because of the strange way the blue light he stood under cast his features, but a second, closer look convinced him that it was Lance.  He took a step forward, then blinked and stopped, because Lance was with someone, and for an instant, under the dizzy blur of the lights and shadows, he thought it was Keith.

 

Then the lights moved, or the man moved into better light, smiling at something Lance had said, and Hunk shook off his confusion.  The man was clearly an Arusian, with light brown hair and that pinched appearance around his probably light brown eyes that gave them all a distinctly alien look to a human gaze.  In one sense, he was almost the anti-thesis of Keith.

 

But, as he crossed the dance floor to the nook where his teammate and his companion stood, Hunk found himself thinking about his reaction to the Arusian man, and realized that his resemblance to Keith was something _other_ than merely physical.  It was something in the openness of his face, the way he spoke, the soft humor so at odds with Lance’s own.  He shook his head sadly when he saw what it meant.

 

Then he was upon them.  While he’d been sidling through the crowd this time, they’d moved slightly.  Lance’s back was to the dance floor and the crowd, and he was completely intent on using the power of his charisma upon the man in front of him.  He had no idea that anyone was behind him.  He jumped when Hunk laid a hand on his shoulder, then spun around in shock.

 

“Hunk?”

 

“Lance… I need to talk to you a minute.”  Over Lance’s shoulder, he nodded pleasantly at the bemused Arusian.  “Alone, if you don’t mind?”

 

The man bent his head in reply and slipped out past them.  Lance stared after him, then scowled at Hunk.  “What the hell do you want?”

 

He was still all hard edges and temper from the fight.  It was amazing that he’d managed to charm anyone at all.  Hunk didn’t rise to the challenge, merely handed him the portable radio he’d brought with him for this purpose.  “Just wanted to give you that.  Oh,” and he fished around in another pocket and brought out a transponder.  “This, too, just in case.”

 

Lance stared at the items in disbelief, heavy in his unwilling hands.  In an instant, though, his puzzlement cleared and his frown intensified.  “Keith sent you to give me these?” he asked harshly.

 

“No,” Hunk replied, voice calm, pitched to be just audible over the music.  He tucked his hands in his pockets so Lance would have no choice but to keep what he’d been given.  “Keith did not _send_ me.  I just happened to find you before he did, is all.”

 

Emotions flickered over Lance’s face, too quick to follow, and he lowered his head to stare at the radio and transponder.  Hunk finally decided that what he thought he’d seen was only the flash of the lights once more.

 

When Lance looked up again, the lights had moved away from him, leaving him in darkness.  “He only wants to know where I am in case Doom attacks again.”  His tone was argumentative, but the way his face was shadowed made it impossible for Hunk to read.

 

Hunk cocked his head to one side.  “That’s what he said, yes.”  He paused, just for an instant, trying to read the other’s expression, then continued, “But you didn’t hear _how_ he said it, Lance.   That isn’t why he wants to find you at all.  And you know it.”

 

Lance shrugged offhandedly.  “Whatever.  I don’t care.”  But Hunk could tell from the unsteadiness of his voice that his words had hit home.

 

“So… what was it all about?”  After no more than a heartbeat of relative silence, Hunk shrugged.  “No, never mind, I don’t really need to know.  It’s just…” He sighed.  “Just that he’s really hurting this time, y’know?  And everything feels all wrong.  So just… make it up to him, all right?  And soon.”

 

As soon as he said those last few words, he knew he’d pushed a little too hard.  Lance’s shoulders stiffened, and he straightened with a jerk, his face contracted into a mulish glare.

 

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”

 

His own temper finally ignited.  “No, you’re right, I _don’t_.  I _don’t_ know what happened between you two.  I don’t know what it was that Keith did or said that set you off.  And right now, I sure as hell don’t know _why_ he wants to look for you, or why he’s dragged _me_ all over creation to help him!”

 

“That’s not my problem!”  Lance fumbled in the pocket of his pants.  “Here!  Being dragged all over creation is expensive!” He threw a number of bills at Hunk; they fluttered helplessly to the floor.  “Now, go tell Keith you accomplished your mission!  He can stop looking for me now and just leave me the fuck alone.”

 

Strangely enough, seeing Lance’s anger made his own dissipate immediately.  He stooped to pick up the fallen money, and held it out to Lance.  Lance just looked away, out over the dance floor, saying nothing.  He let his hand fall to his side, still holding the money.

 

“What was it, Lance?” Hunk asked, his voice so low as to be almost inaudible in the frantic noise of the club.  “Was he not paying enough attention to you?  Did he smother you with too much?  Was it just something he said that stroked you the wrong way?”  Lance flinched and closed his eyes, turning his back.

 

He moved forward, and brought Lance around to face him again, firmly but gently.  Lance startled at the unexpected motion, and just blinked up at him for a second, unable to shrug out of his hold.  “Lance… I know you care about Keith.  I can see it every time you look at him.  But you can’t keep doing this.  There comes a point where you’ve just got to buckle down and _work_ at it rather than picking a fight and running away.  Because if you don’t… one of these times, Keith may not be there when you come back.”

  
Lance gaped at him in shock.  “I…Keith… you…”

 

Hunk shook him slightly.  “No, not me, you goof.  I’m not interested that way and that should be pretty obvious.  I just mean… if you hurt him enough, he’ll give up, decide that he wants someone else, who _doesn’t_ hurt him like that.”  He released his grip on Lance’s slim shoulders and stepped back.  “And you know you don’t want that.”

 

For a moment, he saw Lance without any of the masks he usually wore, and was stunned by the look of naked misery on his friend’s face.

 

Slowly, that anguish was suffused with yearning, and Hunk stared at him, puzzled, until he realized that Lance was gazing not _at_ him, but _past_ him, toward the door.  He craned his neck to see what Lance was looking at, then suddenly knew what he would find.

 

Keith stood just inside the door, stock-still.  Even from across the club, Hunk could tell that his face mirrored Lance’s.

 

He turned back just in time to see Lance take a pace forward.  His heart soared; it would be best all around if they just made up, there wouldn’t be this horrid feeling that they were suddenly less than a team…

 

Then Lance stopped, spun away, his head bowed.  For a second, it almost looked like his shoulders were quivering, but it might have just been the flash of lights.  “I can’t.  Not right now.”  The whisper was lost in the music and white noise, and Hunk thought he had just imagined hearing Lance’s voice.

 

“Lance?  Are you gonna…”

 

Lance straightened, obviously pulling himself together, but he did not turn to look at Keith again.  He shook his head.  “No.  Tell him…”He cleared his throat and went on, “Tell him I’m just here for the party.”  He glanced over his shoulder at Hunk with a pale imitation of his usual cocky grin.  “And that I’ll leave before they throw me out.” Without waiting for a reply, he fled out of the nook and back into the dancing.

 

Hunk headed back the way he had come, as quickly as he could, the bills crumpled in his fist.  He intercepted Keith before he could follow Lance more than a step or two.  “Come on,” he said, taking hold of his commander’s arm and drawing him toward the door.

 

Reluctantly, his eyes locked on Lance, already nearly lost on the dance floor, Keith allowed himself to be guided backward and outside.

 

Once out in the air—much cooler now than earlier, before he’d spent so long in the heat created by so many bodies—Hunk released Keith’s arm.  “I gave him a radio,” he said quietly.  “And the transponder, just in case we can’t raise him on the radio.”

 

Keith nodded and said nothing; he just started walking back to where they’d left the ground car.  The glare of the passing neon was cruel, and highlighted the dark circles beneath his eyes, making him look old and haggard.

 

They walked for a long time in silence.  Hunk was unsure what to say.  The conversation he’d had with Lance didn’t seem appropriate, and he was sure that Lance wouldn’t appreciate it if he gave Keith the impressions he’d formed that evening.  When they had nearly reached the car, he spoke at last. “He wanted me to tell you he was just there for the party.”

 

Keith’s head snapped up, and he stopped short, staring at Hunk, who carried on a few paces before realizing he was alone.  Keith’s face was lost in shadow when he walked back to him, and Hunk could not see what his words had done.  His voice strained with the effort of control, Keith asked, “Did he say anything else?”

 

Worried at the hurt that it seemed he’d inadvertently caused, Hunk did not want to go on, but Keith grabbed his arm and shook him, his restraint stretched to the limit.  He forced the words out somehow, wondering if it was the right thing.  “He… he said he’d leave before he was thrown out.”

 

He was surprised as the tension in the hand on him simply disappeared.  He could see the outline of Keith’s shoulders slump, and panicked, thinking that what he’d said had been the final straw, that he’d unintentionally broken Keith with Lance’s words.  He scarcely felt better when Keith squeezed his arm.

 

“It’s all right, Hunk,” he said softly, his words drifting away on the night breeze.  He released Hunk and took the last few steps to the car.

 

Reluctantly, Hunk followed him and settled behind the wheel, still looking at Keith worriedly.  “I didn’t mean…”

 

Keith shook his head, still lit by the neon glow.  “No,” he said, voice low.  “No, it’s all right.”  He stared out the passenger window at the darkness, as if waiting.

 

Heart twisting slightly, Hunk started the car, and let it idle.  “I can go get him,” he offered, hoping that it would lessen the incredible guilt weighing him down.

 

Keith turned to him then, and he was surprised to see him smiling faintly.  “No, Hunk.  It’s just… just Lance-speak.  He means… he means that he’s not serious about… about picking anyone else up, and that he’ll be home soon.  That’s all.”  He turned back to the window, and Hunk, sneaking a look down at his hands, noticed they were still.  During the whole ride down, they had been tapping out an irritating rhythm on the door, on the dash, on the seat, anywhere Keith could reach.

 

He relaxed.  “It’d be nice if he’d actually come out and _said_ that,” he muttered, unwilling to forgive Lance just yet for his cryptic words and the hurt he himself imagined he’d caused by repeating them.

 

Over the sound of the engine as they pulled out, he thought he heard Keith chuckle, and it lightened his heart some.  But he still didn’t decide to forgive Lance until he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the headlights of another car following them back to the castle.  He smiled and flicked his eyes over at Keith.

 

Keith was still staring out the passenger window at the night, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

 

Hunk cleared his throat, and when Keith looked at him questioningly, he nodded at the mirror.  “They must throw people out earlier than they used to.”

 

Keith did not take his eyes from the promise of the lights behind them, and smiled.  “Maybe the party wasn’t much fun.”

 

Hunk just grinned and drove on.

 

***

October 10, 2004


End file.
